The Victors' Guide to Love and Marriage
by SolasVioletta
Summary: Post-Mockingjay- Victors' Married Life. Is it all fun and games? A little naughtiness in the kitchen and beyond. A dash of angst, a pinch of wicked humor, and a generous serving of citrusy confections. Just add water.
1. I Knead You, Baby

_Warning: Indecorous language and sexual situations to follow, so avert your eyes, if that's not your thing. __I own nothing but my own mistakes._

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**The Victors' Guide to Love and Marriage**

**Part 1- I Knead You, Baby**

"Come on, Brainless," my pseudo-best-friend, slash former self-declared bridesmaid smacked me on the arm, "I _so_...don't believe you. There is no way that you and bread boy haven't gotten **_nasty_** in this kitchen of his. I'm sure he's kneaded your buns all over this commercial grade counter-top he had put in..." The way she said nasty was just so, well... _nasty_- pornographic really.

"Johanna, I am _not_ discussing this with you," I gritted my teeth. Actually, I took a rather large sip of the amazingly fabulous wine she'd brought for me in honor of our girl's night during her visit from 7, and _then_ I gritted my teeth.

Johanna stood up rather wobbily, and put her hand on her hip and shot me a look that only Johanna freaking Mason-Turnbridge could pull off while sporting a 6 month pregnant belly bump, "Crap, Catshit," she spit indignantly, "Not only can't I share that f-ing expensive bottle of wine with you, you're not even going to give me the down and dirty about you and Peeta? Really? You _suck_ as a friend. Why do I even bother with you? I should just get a cat."

Crap, indeed. Why did I have to have a friend who would rival the most jaded porn star in the Capitol in her attitudes about sex? Six years we had been frien-emies, and she meets the love of her life, marries him, and gets knocked up within the span of the last 11 months. Typical Johanna. I, however, still anxiously awaited my period every month even with two forms of birth control, and I had been married to Peeta for what? Three years. Four, if you counted the year I was living with him but in denial about the whole thing.

_Speak of the devil-_ "Sorry, ladies. Just came to get a glass of milk and a cinnamon bun before bed," Peeta sheepishly ambled into our kitchen in a t-shirt and sleep pants that, well... _yeah,__baby,_ made me a little damp in my lady regions.

How could he still do this to me without even trying? In truth, it was probably at least partially Johanna's fault with all her talk of Peeta and me getting "nasty" on the counter-top in our kitchen. I tried to tell myself that had to be the reason I wanted to push him onto said counter-top and have my way with him just then. I snatched a gooey bun from the plate he had just laid on the counter near me instead. I squirmed in discomfort and snuck a glance at Johanna to see if she noticed me lusting after my husband. Oh. My. God. Johanna was totally checking out Peeta's ass as he leaned to get the milk out of our fridge. Bitch.

After pouring his milk, said hot husband held out the plate of cinnamon buns to Johanna and grinned at her cluelessly, "Johanna, cinnamon bun? I made 'em fresh this afternoon for Katniss. You know the little guy or girl in there wants one," he waved the plate teasingly.

Johanna grinned evilly, not that Peeta noticed, "Oh, Peeta. You are _so_ sweet. You always know just what a girl needs."

I glared at Johannna over Peeta's muscular shoulder, as she took a cinnamon bun from the plate Peeta offered and bit into it with relish, moaning with _way_ too much enthusiasm.

"Uhh... Always glad to help, Johanna," Peeta shot me a questioningly look before planting a chaste goodnight kiss on my lips and quickly exiting the kitchen. The boy looked positively alarmed.

"Dammit, Johanna!" I exclaimed when I knew Peeta was safely upstairs in our bedroom, innocently eating a cinnamon bun and drinking his milk in our bed. In our bed...mmmm...

She cackled maniacally in response, "Speaking of delicious, hot buns..." her lips twisted suggestively as she glanced in the direction of Peeta's hasty retreat, "...fresh from the bakery. Am I right?"

So, it really _was_ Johanna's fault when a couple of days later, upon returning home from the woods, I fought with my rather prudish sensibilities when I found Peeta of the delicious, hot buns, all damp and distracted, vigorously kneading a particularly large clump of dough on our granite counter-top, his golden locks glinting in the slanting rays of a late spring evening. I literally froze in the archway of the breakfast nook adjoining our kitchen, my game bag still swinging from my shoulder. I actually had to take a couple of deep breaths as I took in the way his muscular buttocks contracted under his pants as he attacked the dough in front of him with such conviction and such... passion. Groan. Johanna was getting the tackiest, ugliest diaper pail I could find as a baby shower gift. Curse her.

My stealthy hunter's feet stalked up behind Peeta. I was able to nip at his earlobe with my teeth and run my nails playfully up his sides to make him jump before he even knew I was in the room.

"Katniss," he laughed huskily as he pushed his body back into mine reflexively, thus putting my pelvis in a great position in relation to his backside, "You're home. I didn't hear you come in."

He turned his head to the left to gaze back at me with a cheeky smile. Oh, Peeta. You don't even know when you are the hunted, do you, my dear?

I pressed my body against the back of his suggestively. His spine stiffened a little, but after a moment he seemed to relax, "Well, I guess you had a good visit to the woods then..."

I nuzzled his neck, my lips making trail down his neck to the juncture of his shoulder, and I tugged at his t-shirt neck with my teeth, nibbling playfully. He froze, stopped kneading dough altogether, and after a long pause, slowly turned his body to face mine, his strong hands finding my hips. Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I could see that his eyes were staring down at me intently, glazed. His teeth caught at his full lower lip as he studied me. Those blue eyes of his really didn't hide much. He wanted me. I felt a corresponding and welcome pull between my thighs as he lowered his lips to mine in a melting kiss. He sighed into my mouth, the smell of cinnamon and Peeta wafting over me. Gah. How could I resist?

"Oh. Peeta." I murmured helplessly as I sank into his warm, firm body wedged against the counter.

His floury fingers reached up to clasp my neck, "Katniss..." he rumbled from deep in his chest.

We were moving, undulating against each other. I felt his hardness against my belly, and I whimpered as his strong hands moved down my hips to cup my buttocks and turn me about to lift me onto the cool stone surface of the counter-top. My legs wrapped around his hips automatically while my ankles locked behind his back.

He arched his neck back away from me, his lips moving against mine as he muttered, "I need you... like... now." His lips punctuating each word. My sex pulsed. God. He wasn't even in me yet, and I felt myself clenching like before an orgasm. How could that be?

"Okay." I whispered against his mouth. My shaky fingers tugged clumsily at the fastenings of his pants, which finally fell to his feet. I could feel his cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs beneath.

My pants were a little harder to dispose of, but with a little wriggling and shifting from me, he had them down and over my thighs in no time. I was suddenly very grateful for our no hunting boots in the house rule, as he pushed my pants past my sock feet until they dropped with a soft plop onto the tile floor.

His busy, busy hands then pushed up my shirt until it was over my head, as he bent his head to place warm, open-lip kisses on the tops of my breasts. Shrugging my shoulders, the straps of my bra fell over my upper arms, and his nimble fingers reached to slide them down and off of me. I leaned backwards, and lightly bumped my head on the cabinet behind me, as his mouth slowly trailed downward, pushing aside the cup of my bra until he laved my nipple. Ohhh... My...

"Peeta. Please."

He chuckled softly, his breath huffing against my sensitive skin, "Since you asked so nicely."

His warm lips trailed to my other breast as he hooked his fingers around the edges of my panties and tugged them over my hips to make them follow my pants to the floor. I felt the thumbs of both his hands rubbing little circles at the folds where my hips met my thighs before moving slowly inward towards my center. I arched my back, my head resting against the glass front of the upper cabinet completely now.

"Yesss..." I hissed, as I felt his strong fingers move to the moist heat between my legs. His middle finger brushed over just the spot where I wanted his touch most. I jolted spastically, reaching my hands behind me, fingers splaying on the cold counter, and, I think, burying my fingers in dough. Oh, well.

"You feel so... umm... wet. I mean... ready," Peeta babbled adorably as he raised his head again to kiss me deeply, while his magical fingers played over my wet folds.

"I am," I replied in my usual terse fashion. I prided myself in calling it how it was. Man, was I ready. I was past ready. I wanted to scream at him to just fuck me already. Ehh... I'd give him another minute or two before I did that.

Lucky for me, Peeta was a master at reading people, seeing what they wanted and giving it to them in ways they never expected, which made it even better. He grasped my bare legs just behind my knees and tugged me to the edge of the counter-top, so the very tip of his straining member was pushing into that little bundle of nerves he had been toying with earlier. He slowly rocked his hips, just grazing me. My eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy.

"Katniss, open your eyes and look at me when I fuck you," he whispered in a gentle but firm command.

My naughty, naughty baker boy. I opened my eyes with what I knew was a challenging expression which quickly shifted into one of startled amazement as he drove himself partially into my warm depths, teasing me. So like him to not go all the way in right off. Drawing out our desire. Several shallow thrusts later, I was ready to beg him push in further. Exactly what we both wanted, but he knew... He knew it would be better if he teased us both. He was panting lightly at this point, which made me feel a little better about my own wantonness. There were only thin rings of his beautiful blue irises visible around his dilated pupils now. He wanted me, too. I thrust my hips off the counter pushing him deeper but still not quite all the way. It was sweet torture.

Like a light switch, he shifted abruptly completing his thrust and filling me so I cried out, wrapping my arms around his back, while he moaned into my hair, "Oh, Katniss, how is it like this? Always."

My sex-addled brain barely processed his question, but I stuttered an answer as he drew back and thrust again deeply, "Because it's...us."

After that the only noises were those of our love-making: skin brushing skin, soft moans, and then not so soft moans. Peeta had a secret. Noisy sex really turned him on. I always thought it was because he liked it when his quiet, serene Katniss wanted to shout for joy when he loved her thoroughly. Lucky for him, I did. When my orgasm finally overtook me, I shuddered and shouted to the ceiling. Our final cries of release had just died on our lips when we both heard the front door open and slam shut again followed by Haymitch's rather slurred, "Dammit, when's dinner? I'm hungry."

In my position straddling Peeta while perched on the counter, he and I were eye to eye, staring at each other in abject horror. After a split second Peeta spun around while simultaneously reaching to tug up his pants and clasp them unfastened at his waist, also stepping to shield me protectively behind him.

"Peeta? Where are you, boy? Is Katniss home yet?" Haymitch grumbled as he trod unsteadily toward the kitchen. _Fuck._

If it weren't so mortifyingly embarrassing, the shocked expression of our former mentor and long-time friend would have been comical when he finally stepped into our kitchen and blinked at Peeta standing in front of me while clutching his pants around his hips, as I cowered naked behind him. When had I become such a chicken?

Haymitch recovered first, "Damn, kids. Haven't you been together long enough to get over the kinky shit?"

He stood there studying us with mock disgust for a moment more before adding, "Well, this has just killed my appetite completely."

He turned and tromped out of the house indignantly. We didn't see him for two days. We used that time _very_ wisely, and I also never, EVER forgot to lock the front door when I came home from the woods all hot and bothered and ready to have my way with Peeta/for a tumble after that.

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_So- more chapters of married bliss or no? Please let me know... _


	2. Peeta, Peeta Pumpkin Eater

_**Warning: Naughty language and sex acts to follow.**__ Oh, and I own nothing but my own screw-ups._

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**Part Two: Peeta, Peeta Pumpkin Eater **

Uh-oh. I'd know that take-no-prisoners strut anywhere. That was Johanna alright, and she was walking down the platform beside the newly arrived inbound train like she owned it. Headed straight for me. I had a few seconds at most before she saw me. Crap_._ Katniss hadn't mentioned Johanna Turnbridge, nee Mason, was coming to visit us in 12. Maybe Katniss didn't even know. That would be just like Johanna.

And what the hell was she wearing? A practically transparent over-sized top thing and body-hugging leggings that drew attention to every single voluptuous curve, including her small baby bump. Judging by the leer a passing porter sent Johanna, she still had the power to enthrall just about any male within a hundred yard radius. Fortunately for me, I'd gotten over all that years ago before the 3rd Quarter Quell. I still remembered desperately trying to keep my eyes north of Johanna's neck when she cast off her tree costume and stood stark naked in front of me in an elevator whisking both of us along with a fuming Katniss to the Tribute Quarters in the Capitol. That was like 6-7 years ago now, and I still felt my neck flush at the memory. Why Katniss ended up furious with me at the end of that particular meeting with Johanna, I still didn't quite understand. I ask you: what 17 year old guy _wouldn't_ sneak a glance at a naked woman standing right in front of him? At least today, Johanna was wearing clothing- though barely.

I fought to wipe the look of mild alarm from my face when Johanna spotted me standing on the station platform, and pranced slinkily over to me, her rolling luggage in tow, "Isn't this just the best surprise! Peeta Mellark, most romantic sod in all of Panem, here to meet me at the train station of this forsaken little backwater of a district."

She threw her arms around me in a loose embrace, and placed a loud smacking kiss on my cheek, causing several people in the vicinity to cast speculative looks our way. Great. Half the district would have it passed around that I'd met my pregnant mistress at the train depot before I even got back to the bakery for the lunch rush. I, of course, knew that Johanna was now happily, _blissfully_ married to a guy named Tris Turnbridge from her district, but the District 12 busybodies didn't know that.

I returned her hug before stepping back and glancing around uncomfortably, "Erhm, hey, Johanna. This is a nice surprise. I was just here to pick up a shipment of flour from 11. Had no idea you were coming for a visit. Katniss must've forgotten to tell me."

"Oh, I thought I'd surprise her. And you, too, of course, " she reached up to playfully tousle my hair with her fingers, "I tell you, if Katniss hadn't gotten to you first..." Her eyes trailed over me leisurely, as she made a little tsking noise, "You just keep getting hotter, Lover Boy."

I let out a nervous chuckle as I looked over Johanna's shoulder and spied Rona Ebersole, the town gossip, actually stop mid-stride on her way to the ticket window of the station just to gape at us. Well, make that the _whole_ district would be thinking I met my pregnant mistress at the train station. Damn.

"Really, Johanna, you're shocking the locals, besides I know how besotted you are with Tris, since I was at your _wedding_ a few months back," I chided her, but with a smile.

"Oh, honey," Johanna laid a well-manicured hand on my bare bicep just below my shirt sleeve, squeezing it like she was checking ripe fruit, "I may be married and pregnant, but I'm not **_dead_**. I can still admire an attractive man when I see one."

"Johanna, quit toying with Peeta, and get over here. Honestly, I'm two minutes late and you're already causing trouble," a rather surly but somehow amused voice belonging to my wife came from somewhere behind me. _Thank __God. __Saved._

"Brainless!" Johanna squealed as she skipped the couple of steps to hug Katniss. "But it's so much **fun**. Just look at that adorable blush of his. I'll know I've lost my touch when I can't make our Peeta here turn red as a ripe...plum with my silliness." She winked at me seductively.

Katniss shot me an apologetic look before saying, "She called the house after you left this morning to inform me of her visit. Sorry I didn't warn you."

Katniss stepped up and gave me a lingering, soft-lipped kiss against my parted lips, before stepping back to brush her thumb over my cheek, probably to remove traces of Johanna's lipstick.

My chest puffed up automatically. Katniss Everdeen Mellark had just laid some serious PDA on me. For any other girl, that would be like she hopped up and wrapped her legs around my hips and started grinding into me. Geez. Where had _that_ come from? Johanna was _such_ a bad influence. Although... maybe the hopping and grinding thing would be fun to try with Katniss...later... in private. I shifted uncomfortably as the image of Katniss' supple thighs wrapped around me made my pants suddenly feel a bit tight.

Why was I here again? Just then a porter I recognized walked over to me pushing a flat cart loaded with a large stack of 100 pound sacks embossed with District 11's logo. Flour shipment? Oh, yeah.

"Hey, Gus. Did it all get here alright?" I smiled at the man as I leaned over to inspect the bags and make sure my full order was there.

I hefted one of the heavy sacks over my shoulder, in order to count the others piled behind it. I distinctly heard a nearby Johanna quip huskily to Katniss, "Damn, will you just _look_ at that ass! And those shoulders! Such definition. God...I think I've just _come_. You are one lucky beatch, Kat."

"Dammit, Johanna! Quit ogling my husdand!" a frustrated Katniss spit out.

"Can I help it if these pregnancy hormones make me horny as hell?" Johanna shot back, "I mainly came for a visit to give Tris a break. Poor man was actually walking a little funny before I left."

"Peeta, I'm going to take this one home before she creates more of a scene than she already has. See you at dinner, okay?" Katniss called out to me, while determinedly leading Johanna (read _dragging_ Johanna) and her rolling luggage away.

Last I heard as they passed out of sight was Katniss saying, "Just because you might have _broken_ your husband of less than a year, doesn't mean you get to paw and leer at mine, Jo..."

I managed not to laugh until I was sure they were out of earshot. The next couple of days would be interesting, that's for sure.

Dinner certainly turned out to be an adventure and an education- between Johanna's over-shares regarding the new sexual positions she and Tris had been experimenting with to accommodate her growing stomach, and Katniss pointedly interrupting Johanna's question to me of whether I thought Johanna's breasts had gotten too big with her condition. I actually laughed until I almost cried. Johanna had brought a delicious bottle of wine from a winery she and Tris were thinking of investing in. She insisted Katniss and I share the bottle, as she couldn't indulge herself. For all her swagger, Johanna really was a good friend to us. I couldn't remember the last time we had such a lively dinner. Usually, our meals were pleasant, albeit quiet affairs interrupted only by Haymitch's one syllable grunts. That evening on my way home, I'd stopped by Haymitch's to invite our former mentor for the impromptu dinner in Johanna's honor.

Haymitch adamantly refused before saying, "I thought you had better survival skills these day, boy. Take a bottle of my liquor with you. You're going to need it."

I declined and left to Haymitch's continued mutterings to himself about crazy she-devils, cat fights, and hell freezing over.

_SVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSVSV_

Before going to bed that night, I wandered downstairs for a snack to find Johanna and Katniss still chatting in our kitchen, and reaffirmed to myself that Johanna's visit would be a good...no... a _great_ thing. Johanna with her bawdy sense of humor and adventurous attitude towards most things sexual was good for Katniss, who had a tendency to over-think things at times in that area.

Without a doubt, I was a very happily married man, but the possessive way my wife was currently looking at me while Johanna flirted shamelessly with me over cinnamon rolls, had me supremely grateful my pajama pants were a loose fit. My wife was one sexy woman when she was a little jealous. Katniss' eyes flashed beguilingly into mine as Johanna said some teasing thing or other to me. That moment, I really just wanted to scoop Katniss up and carry her to our bed right then, but I knew she'd never forgive me, and Johanna would never let us forget it, if I did.

So, when Katniss strode into our bedroom a half an hour later while I sat in our bed reading and finishing the cinnamon roll I'd gotten for a snack, I had an idea. A truly wicked idea.

"Johanna settled for the night?" I asked innocently as Katniss moved into the adjoining bathroom to turn on the shower.

"As settled as she ever gets, I guess," Katniss let out a sigh that was a combination of weariness and amusement.

"It's good to see her so happy. When she's happy she's just so … ," I paused trying to phrase what I meant.

"... So Johanna, but like an order of magnitude _more_ than usual?" Katniss finished as she padded barefoot to stand close to our bed and reach over to bury her fingers in my hair, scratching her short nails over my scalp just the way I liked. I groaned in ecstasy.

"Exactly," I scooted to sit on the edge of the bed with my pajama clad knees spread on either side of Katniss where she stood in front of me, "It's kind of inspiring actually..."

Katniss stared down at me and grinned slowly, "That's one way to describe it. I'm actually going to lock the damn bedroom door tonight to keep your virtue in tact."

Wrapping my arms around Katniss' slender hips, and resting my cheek against her stomach, I chuckled, "Oh, you know she only does and says what she does because we're so much fun to tease. Although..." I gazed up at her heatedly through my eyelashes, "I'm thinking I wouldn't mind someone else threatening my virtue..."

I nipped at Katniss' hip through her shirt before continuing, "What say, I come in there and help you shower? I could wash those hard to reach areas I love so much."

"Peeta- Johanna might hear us..." Katniss huffed, but I could tell she was thinking about it. Our wet skin sliding against each others' while we exchanged hot kisses under the stinging spray of the shower.

"You actually think Johanna could hear anything on the other side of the house or that anything she did hear would shock her, Katniss?" I asked archly.

"Good points. And you are so very _thorough_ in helping me wash those hard to reach areas, aren't you, _Peeta_?" she murmured huskily, raking her hands through my hair again, and pressing her pelvis against my chest a little harder. I was already twitching in my pajama pants at the thought of "helping" my wet, naked wife in our shower.

"Here- allow me to 'help' you," I grinned impishly as I pulled her shirt up and over her head while rising to stand in front of her. It became a race to see who could get their clothes off the fastest. I won. Barely.

The showers in the Victor's Village master bedrooms really were great- large, tiled, glass enclosed. There were even triple shower jets arranged on the tile wall opposite a built-in bench. After standing in the steamy spray wrapped in each others arms for a few moments, I gently pushed Katniss to sit on the tile seat.

"Peeta, this tile's cold on my ass," Katniss whined a little petulantly.

"My wife can't have a cold ass," I crooned sympathetically, "Allow me to warm you."

I knelt in front of her on my good knee and slowly brushed both my hands up her bare, wet thighs, while leaning in for an open mouthed kiss, "Mmmm... you taste like wine. I like it even better this way."

"And you taste like cin-cinnamon," I had to grin as Katniss stuttered when I trailed my lips across her jaw and down to the side of her neck where I nibbled and licked my way over her chest while reaching my hands under her chilly ass and pulling her toward me on the seat.

Lowering my head to plant a slow, licking kiss on first one nipple and then the other, I ghosted my fingertips up and down her inner thighs. She shivered.

"Still cold?" I asked before I sucked her nipple into my mouth and nipped it gently.

"No," came her immediate response, as she buried her fingers in my now wet hair, urging me closer. My lips formed a slow smile as they continued to nuzzle her breast.

I wondered if it was time to try something a little different in our shower lovemaking routine...

Shifting a bit, I dropped my head and kissed the insides of her slightly splayed knees, pushing them farther apart with my hands.

"Peeta?" Katniss sounded confused and then a little startled when she repeated my name again on a gasp, while I trailed my lips lingeringly up her thighs, my fingers continuing their journey to her center and finally caressing her slick folds. I reached for her calves and raised them over my shoulders, lowering my head closer to the succulent vision before me.

"Oh, my God... _Peeta_," she panted, her thigh muscles tensing around me as I dropped kisses over her clit, "W-what are you doing?"

Tilting my head up to meet her hooded gaze, "I feel inspired to try something new..."

I'd pleasured her with my mouth before, but not in our shower with the lights on while Katniss sat spread naked before me like a delicious, wet buffet. I felt blood pulsing in my groin as I looked down at the delicate pink flesh of her sex surrounded by soft dark curls.

I bent the remaining couple of inches and laved my tongue length-wise over her slit, stopping to tease her sensitive nub with the tip of my tongue. The keening cry, that may or may not have been my name combined with several curse words, led me to believe that this was worth doing repeatedly. She tasted amazing. My aroused groan drew a soft wail in response from Katniss, as the sound waves from my own groan vibrated through the sensitive tissues of her soft, wet center. I moved the fingers of one hand to her opening, gently inserting them to curl around until I felt her shudder convulsively, as her hips began to buck against me.

I loved Katniss' voice- talking, singing, even yelling at me in anger, but my most favorite voice of all was when she totally forgot herself with me when we were alone together. The special noises she made just for me when she came were so arousing they could almost send me over the edge to an orgasm without her even touching me, eclipsing everything. Well, she usually _was_ touching me- like now. Even after all this time together, it was a near thing for me to gather her in my arms after her body pulsed against my fingers and lips in the aftermath of her pleasure. I was so close to tipping over the edge, and somehow Katniss knew it, just as I knew the sounds she made when she climaxed.

"Peeta..." she panted, "_Now_."

"What, baby?" I was confused until she stood a little unsteadily, taking my hands and pulling me up to stand against her before she jumped up on the shower seat and..._Ohhh...my...oh...**fuck**__**!**_ Her thighs clasped around my hips, while her warm, still-pulsing heat sank down over my throbbing erection. I staggered a step forward to press her against the shower wall for support, as my hands wound around to cup her ass.

"So... good," she mumbled against my ear wrapping her arms around my neck as I drove into her forcefully.

"Yeah. This...isn't going to..." I tried to get out between thrusts, "L-last...long. Unghh... Kat...niss."

She drew back her wet head and placed languid kisses over my eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally my mouth, as I came down from the incredible high of my orgasm.

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So, when Johanna strutted into our kitchen the next morning, like the cat who'd got the cream, and drawled, "God! I feel fabulous! I had the most erotic dreams last night, and the soundtrack... It was almost like it was real."

Katniss blushed to the roots of her hair and buried her face in her cup of tea, while I turned away to hide my stupid I-got-laid grin. Johanna was getting the_ best_ freaking baby gift I could find.

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_All I have to say is: Katniss can't be in charge __**all**__ the time. Thoughts anyone? Thanks for reading!_


	3. Inner Strength and Cold Steel

_If you've read Parts 1 & 2, you know the drill: sexual situations and words you wouldn't say to your grandma ahead. My apologies for the change in verb tenses, but I felt it fit the mood of this chapter._

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**Part ****3- Inner Strength and Cold Steel**

Should have known something was wrong when Peeta didn't come home from the bakery at the usual time. As evening fades into night, I really begin to worry. It isn't like him not to let me know when he's delayed or working late. Putting aside my phone aversion, I call the bakery a few times, but no one answers. Our house in the Victor's Village seems forlorn without Peeta there to help me prepare our dinner. I finally give up trying. Haymitch is staggering towards drunkenness by the time I stop in at his house on my way to the bakery. As near as I can tell, he hasn't seen Peeta at all today.

I try to keep my mind blank as I trudge along the well-worn track to town. Frightening thoughts try to creep in. I swat them away like the mosquitoes buzzing in the warm near-darkness around me. I'm over-reacting. Peeta just lost track of time while creating some new culinary masterpiece. He'll be standing in the kitchen behind the bakery in a state of intense concentration over his new creation. And he'll be damn lucky if I don't pick up whatever it is and chuck it at his head when I get there and see that he's alright. I huff out a deep breath.

The bakery's completely dark when I get there, along with all the other businesses along the street. I try the glass front door with the burnt orange lettering declaring "Mellark's Bakery" anyway. Locked. Peering through the glass, I see the empty counters and racks that normally would display all manner of breads, cookies and cakes. It's eerie to see it so empty but typical for when the shop is closed for the day. The wooden swinging door leading back to the kitchen is closed as it usually is, with no light coming from underneath it as would be the case if Peeta were still working back there. I still feel the need to go around to the back of the building and try the less-used back door, which is unlocked, startling me a little when I easily pull it open. Stepping quietly over the threshold, I stand at the back of the kitchen with the faint light from the back alley at my back, allowing my eyes to adjust to the increased darkness inside, I scan the dim room with its stainless steel topped work tables and large ovens built into the wall. I'm reaching to turn on the light when I see him- sitting on the clay tile floor, his back to the metal door of a large walk-in refrigerator on the wall opposite the ovens. His knees are raised, with his forearms resting on them, while his hands dangle loosely between them. I can see the reflection of what little ambient light there is, gleaming in his eyes. He's looking directly at me in the heavy silence, and every instinct in my body is twanging with unease.

"Peeta?" I call softly.

"I've been waiting for you," he states in a strange, hollow voice.

He doesn't move to get up, just sits there on the floor gazing up at me. I take several cautious steps toward him. Why am I so anxious? Then I notice the small pool of something dark on the tile floor between his feet directly beneath his hands. Closing the distance I squint down at it, and my hunter's eyes know immediately what it is. Blood.

I'm on my knees in front of him taking his hands in mine, noting one is sticky with blood, "Peeta, are you bleeding? What happened? Are you okay?"

I see there are smears of blood on the front of his white apron as he shrugs his shoulders dismissively before saying, "Did you know in the Capitol they can cut you, and then treat the wounds so it's almost like they were never there in the first place? They can do that over and over..." His voice trails off; he looks away before continuing, "Why would they do that? Cut you so deep that it will leave a terrible scar, but then make it go away only to do it again."

I swallow thickly. Really afraid now. Peeta hasn't had an episode in years. He has moments where I can see pain and anger cross his face, as if he's remembering some unimaginable horror, but those pass quickly. This is different. This is like the Peeta I've buried so deep in my memory that he's almost unfamiliar. Almost. This is hijacked Peeta. Every nerve in my body is singing. I want to jump up, run out of the bakery and out of town and into the woods- away from Peeta. The compulsion to get away, to hide, is almost uncontrollable. Almost.

"Peeta," I reach to place my palms on his cheeks, trying to keep my voice level, "Let's get you cleaned up. See what we need to do to fix you..."

Abruptly he leans into me, and I drop my hands, "Fix me?" he almost spits out, "I don't believe there is any way to do that. What Johanna said the other day is true."

All I can do is sit there and watch him in horror, in sadness.

"She said I was the most romantic sod in all of Panem," Peeta finally continues, "And she's right, but not in the way she thinks. Do you know how many times I've bled for you, Katniss? They...they cut me while I screamed your name over and over."

"Oh, Peeta," I cry, tears flooding down my cheeks. My love for this still-tortured man overrules every survival instinct in me at that moment,"You have no idea how much I wish it had been me instead of you."

"Oh, they knew what they were doing. I was weak, so I made you weak, too," he states sadly, "Sometimes I still wish they'd just killed me."

"No!" I shout forcefully, "And you have _never_ been weak. You just have a different kind of strength. I've always thought it was in your goodness."

He laughs bitterly, "Is it good that I still, _after over six years,_ have thoughts about wrapping my hands around your throat and squeezing?"

I shiver involuntarily, "But you've never..."

"And does that make me weak or make me strong? Am I too weak to try to kill you, or too strong to do something so evil?" Peeta interrupts in a low voice.

"Strong," I state emphatically,"I have no doubts about that. Those torturing bastards in the Capitol put those thoughts in your head, but you are too strong to act on them."

"Ah, but I did 'act on them' once, Katniss. In 13 right after..." Peeta shakes his head, as if shaking away the memory, "And it almost cost you your life. It still could. Only one time more, and I could finish the job."

"Peeta. No. Just... **no**." I scramble mentally for a way to convince him of my point and come up with something with the potential to be very dangerous, but it feels like the right thing to do.

I reach out and clamp my hands around his wrists, and lift his hands up so they are on either side of my neck. He tries to pull them away from me, but I tighten my grip on his wrists. The fingers of both his hands curl fiercely, but not around my neck. They clench into fists, resting on my shoulders.

"Look at me," I command in desperation.

Even in the dark, I see the fear and sadness in his eyes, now almost completely black in the dark kitchen. I lean in very slowly to press a soft kiss to his lips, before drawing back, if only a little. I can feel his slightly rapid breathing feathering over my own lips. I smile softly across the small space between us and say, "I trust you. Always."

He shuts his eyes, his eyelashes fanning out on his fair cheeks before he opens them again to look at me with a kind of desperation and repeats quietly, "Always."

I feel his fingers unfurl from their tight fists and curl around my neck- but gently. His thumbs trace lightly up and down over the hollow at the base of my throat, while the other fingers rest at my nape with light pressure. It feels strange to have his hands encircling my neck like a distant echo of that horrible time in 13, but there is no malice towards me this time. I feel my skin prickle with pleasure at his light caresses.

"See," I shrug and look at him with faux-calmness, "No murderous rampage here."

He sighs heavily and leans in to rest his forehead against mine. All the tension and rigidness of his body seems to leave him, as he almost slumps into me. Wrapping my arms around his back, I hug him tightly. It's been so long since he's been like this; I'm out of practice dealing with it. I feel unsure of what to do next, so I sit there quietly on the cool terracotta tiled floor just holding him for a long time.

"You took a big risk doing that, Katniss," Peeta quietly scolds me, as he moves to wrap his arms around me, "I could've hurt you or... or worse."

"I knew you wouldn't," I reply with more confidence than I actually feel, "Besides you needed me to help bring you back from whatever dark place you were."

"It was strange," Peeta muses, "I don't think it was a tracker jacker attack, per se, but like some weird echo of one. Earlier, I was at the sink washing up for the day, and a knife slipped through my hand, and I went to grab it and sliced my palm. Stupid, really. I looked down and saw the blood. It bled a lot more than I thought it would. I saw all the blood, and just felt like I wasn't alone in my body anymore. I had all these images of when I was held in the Capitol, the l-lies they told me all came flooding back. It was kind of overwhelming. All of a sudden, I felt afraid and angry at..." Peeta stops talking and rubs his hand over his face tiredly.

"Afraid of me. Angry at me," I supply trying to keep my voice even, and hide the hurt and pain I feel. Damn the Capitol for doing this to my Peeta and damn _me_ for making them feel the need to! _My fault._

Peeta scoots closer to me, holding me tighter, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that. Don't apologize."

It feels good, him holding me, but also a little oppressive, as though my guilt for all the bad things I've done or caused to happen before and during the rebellion, are pressing down on me. I fight with myself not to push Peeta away.

Instead I say, "Hey, let's get your hand cleaned up."

He moves to stand up slowly, careful of his bad leg, and then reaches down with his left hand to pull me up. I take his injured right hand by the wrist, and we walk over to the large stainless steel sink by the back window of the kitchen. Through some unspoken agreement between us, we don't turn on the lights. The darkness is comforting somehow. Safe. Neither of us seem to want to be under the harsh brightness of the electric lights. Here we are together again, hiding from our fears in the dark just as we did years ago in the arenas.

"Not so bad," I say, as we stand together at the sink, bathed in the pale light coming through the window. Peeta is partially behind me, with his arm outstretched between my waist and arm, while I hold his hand under the warm water of the faucet. Once all the blood is rinsed away, I see the gash across his right palm, "Not too deep. Should heal well without stitches, I think. The skin's already together, and it's not even bleeding much now. Though, as we both know, I'm no healer."

Peeta chuckles softly, my heart soars at the sound, and he says, "Yeah, I'm surprised you're doing this, my hunter that can't stand the sight of blood."

"I told you- the blood of people I care about. Your blood. I can't stand to see _your_ blood," I reply a little defensively.

Peeta steps closer behind me, his strong, muscular chest presses into my back. He leans to rest his chin on my shoulder and look over it at his wounded hand, as his other arm steals around my waist. Suddenly, the mood between us changes again, from comfort and closeness to one thick with thrumming desire.

Peeta feels it, too. He's breathing changes and his body seems to mold into the back of mine, as he turns his head to plant a slow kiss at the side of my neck, he murmurs, "Thank you for...taking care of me."

"Gladly," I respond, starting to turn around to face him, but he moves to stop me.

"No, stay like this," his husky voice, now at my ear. I arch back into him, pressing my backside into his growing erection, "Katniss..." he hisses.

His hands trail down my sides to cradle my hips for a few moments before sliding back up under my shirt to cup both my breasts in his palms. He flexes his fingers as his finger tips find my hardened nipples under my bra.

I reach back and rub both palms up and down his thighs. I feel his muscles tensing and contracting at my caresses. I arch my neck back into his shoulder as he nips at my earlobe with his teeth. Turning my head, my mouth meets his in an urgent backwards kiss that sends desire curling to my sex, making me ache for him there.

He doesn't ask or state his intentions, but suddenly he's moving me, still in front of him, across the room, until I'm standing facing the large metal door of the refrigerator. His hands skim down my warm skin to the waist of my pants, which after a little attention from Peeta, drop to my feet along with my panties. My shirt is over my head and my bra follows. I hear rustling behind me, I look back over my shoulder in time to see him step from his own pants and move to press his warm, male nakedness against me. I feel his erection pulse at the base of my spine. A shiver passes through me, when he takes both my hands in his, and raises our arms over our heads where he places my palms on the smooth steel of the door before us. My sensitive nipples just brush at the cool metal in front of me, the sensation making me moan softly. I press my cheek against its cool surface.

I sense him moving away from me briefly, and I tingle all over when his open lips trail kisses down my neck, between my shoulder blades, downward and across the globes of my buttocks. His hands reach out to pull off my boots and remove my pants and panties completely. He carefully pushes my feet apart. I can't see it, but I feel his eyes looking up at my sex from his position crouched on the floor behind me. I feel so exposed, naked before him with my back to him. I like it. I decide I _love_ it in the next moment when I feel his hair tickling up the back of my right thigh, as his lips graze up my left inner thigh to finally reach my damp core. Ungh. His tongue is _there_. Licking and moving in and out. _So good._ Incredibly, I'm already set to burst with my orgasm, but Peeta moves away before it happens.

He stands up behind me again, and suddenly I'm wedged lightly between his warm body and the chilly steel door as he steps up close to me. His left hand curls around my hip, moving to find my wet folds, and he plucks at my clitoris with his thumb and forefinger while his other fingers spread into me. I buck back into him reflexively. I feel the throb of my heartbeat between my legs, groaning with wanting. Somehow, the dynamic of our love-making is different tonight. As a show of trust, I feel the need to let him lead while I follow.

"Katniss...back up a little, but keep your hands there..." his hands trail up my arms to my hands still splayed above my head on the metal door. It feels like every inch of his strong body is pressed front to back into mine, "... Yes, that's right, baby."

He drops his left hand from mine to reach down between us to grasp his erection and slowly guide himself into my wet opening. This is new. He's never entered me standing behind me before. The new position is strange and exciting. After a few tentative thrusts by him, and backward wiggling from me, we find just the right angle. His mouth is busily kissing and suckling at the back of my neck as he grinds into me more confidently.

I tilt my head up and look up to see the fingers of our right hands intertwined on the metal door above my head. His left hand has moved in front of me again,where his middle finger is circling the sensitive bundle of nerves of my clit. The combined sensations of him fingering me and thrusting into me from behind are incredibly intense. I climax quickly, but he continues plunging into my slick depths, while gently pressing his fingers into my now sensitive folds. With a surprised gasp, I come again when I hear his guttural groan at my back as he reaches his own release.

We're both panting harshly, when he leans into me, still inside me, the steel door now holding us both upright. My head lolls backwards onto his shoulder, our sweaty cheeks against each others.

"Holy shit, Peeta," I finally find my voice, "That was...I don't have words for that."

I feel that he smiles by his cheek pressing into mine, and he says, "We'll have to have sex against the kitchen appliances more often."

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_So, I had to throw in a little salty angst with the sweet fluffiness. Thoughts anyone? Thanks so much for reading, favoriting, and/or following! Reviews would be great!_


	4. Plum Trees and Orgasmic Epiphanies

_My apologies for neglecting this little collection of vignettes for so long! That said, time for Peeta to get a little dirty..._

_Part 3 Summary: Katniss finds Peeta on the verge of a hijacking flashback in his bakery. She talks him down, and sexy times ensue._

_Soundtrack for this update: "One Rainy Wish" by the incomparable Mr. Jimi Hendrix_

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**Part 4- Peeta's Plum Trees and Orgasmic Epiphanies**

After a hard day of baking at my shop, I should have been exhausted, and I was. Don't laugh, baking uses all the core muscles. Hundred pound sacks of flour don't move themselves, and kneading and stirring for hours on end, does wonders for toning the upper body. Hell, maybe I should do a baker's exercise video and have Plutarch run it on the United Panem Food Network. He'd just love that, a former victor willingly going on camera. I grinned to myself at the image of an ecstatic Plutarch directing me in a cooking show. My amusement faded quickly as the dark musings that had been haunting me of late crept in again.

I'd been on the verge of a hijacking episode just two nights ago when Katniss found me in the floor of the bakery kitchen bloodied, and well, truthfully, serial killer creepy. And what had she done? That wonderful, courageous, selfless woman had allowed me to make mind-blowing love to her after she got me out of my scary, dark place. I owed her for that. So many things I owed Katniss, that I could never begin to repay. That's why I was out in our backyard in Victor's Village, digging in the dirt this late Spring evening. The first step of my grand plan for the empty space between the garden and the tool shed was underway.

Effie, of all people, had been a huge help in forwarding my project. At my request, she'd talked to a famous chef friend of hers in the Capitol and determined which kind of plum was in the lamb stew that Katniss loved so much in the first games. We have so many bad memories from those days, but I think this is a good one for both of us- cozy in our cave eating our care-package Haymitch had finagled from some generous sponsor. Both of us had almost died in the last few hours before that. Nothing like almost dying to make a person appreciate the little things like delicious, hot lamb stew with plums and wild rice. I could almost taste it on my tongue with the memory. Weird that. Some memories were so clear in my jumbled brain, yet others were just as mixed up as the stew. I shrugged away the unhappy thoughts.

Katniss had been gone since before daybreak, hunting and gathering in the woods. The call came to the bakery from the train station manager around 10 o'clock this morning. My 4 heirloom plum trees would be on the 3 o'clock train from District 11. Rue's district. That brought a whole other set of painful memories.

I stabbed my spade into the loamy soil with a little more force than was necessary. I had three holes dug already. With any luck I'd have the trees in the ground before Katniss came home. She'd probably take the indirect route and go into town first to share her game, especially if she'd had a productive day in the woods.

Even in the early evening, the slanting rays of the sun were warm on my back. I shed my t-shirt, which was sticking to me uncomfortably, using it to wipe the sweat from my face and neck. I gave an irritated tug at my work trousers, which seemed to be riding low on my hips today, since I'd forgotten to put on a belt. I could imagine Haymitch complaining about seeing a white moon rising if he saw me thus. I chuckled to myself as I leaned into my work once more. The physical labor felt good. The muscles of my back and shoulders burned with the each repetitive thrust of the shovel into the earth.

Forty-five minutes later, I was dropping the fourth tree into its respective hole, when Katniss ambled silently up behind me- causing me to practically jump from my own skin when her hands trailed over my bare back to rest at my shoulders as she rasped in her low, melodic voice, "Well, hello there, shirtless stranger. What's all this?"

I turned sheepishly, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and I should know, being a baker and all, "Uh. It's a surprise for you," I stated lamely, gesturing to the trees with my dirt incrusted hands.

Katniss' silvery eyes shifted from my now red face to the saplings to study them with her usual intensity, "Hmmm... I don't recognize them. They are some kind of fruit tree?"

"Exactly. Plum trees," I smiled with pleasure before running my hand through my hair in a nervous habit I had, momentarily forgetful of the mud and grime I was now rubbing into my hair.

Katniss laughed huskily and reached up to tousle my hair and presumably get some of the dirt out, "Plum trees?"

"I called Effie, and got her to find out what kind of plum was in the stew you loved so much when we were... in the Capitol. Turns out it's a very old variety of an heirloom plum. She reached out to a chef friend of hers, and well..." I gestured to the partially planted trees, "Here we are. Four plum trees of our very own."

"Peeta," Katniss took a step up to me, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck, careful not to end up in the hole I'd dug for the tree, "That is so... thoughtful. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

I felt my face burn even hotter as a flush stole up my neck that had nothing to do with the exertion of digging holes and planting the trees, "I wonder that myself sometimes, Katniss, though not in the way you mean. I talked to Dr. Aurelius today..."

I cast a glance down at our bodies, so close to each other. How could she just wrap herself around me like this, knowing what she knew about me? I'd like to think that I wouldn't have hurt her the other night in the bakery, if she hadn't intervened and things had gone badly. It was the niggling doubt that I might have done harm to the woman I loved more than my own life that tormented me, waking me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat for the last two nights.

"Hey, come back," she ordered softly, leaning her face close to mine, forcing me to look up and meet her eyes, "And how is our mutual friend?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Fine. Concerned but fine."

Katniss scoffed lightly, "It's his job to be _concerned_. He can only nap so many hours of the day, I guess."

"Katniss..." I reached down to take her hands, unmindful of my grubby, soil covered fingers, "He wants me to increase my sessions with him for a while. He doesn't think the..." I swallowed reflexively, "...the other night should be ignored and possibly create bigger problems in the future. He said it could have just been a minor back-slide brought on by the blood, but he thinks we need to be proactive."

"Do what you think is best, Peeta, but you've been fine for many months, years even. You had an off night," Katniss leaned into me until her pelvis was pressed firmly into mine, with no space between us now, and grinned mischievously up at me, "Well, not _completely_ off. Some of the most amazing sex. Ever. You are dangerous, Peeta Mellark, but not in the way Dr. Aurelius is concerned about."

I let out a gusty sigh, "Katniss, this is serious. I could not... would not live with myself, if I hurt you, especially now. It would destroy me."

Katniss released my hands and moved to place her palms on either side of my jaw, studying me, "You did _not_ hurt me. I don't think you ever would have. You just had a dark time there for a bit. Completely understandable given your cut and the blood. It brought some things back, that's all."

"No!" I vehemently shook my head, suddenly angry- at what, I wasn't sure, "Don't do that. Don't make excuses for me, Katniss. I need to- I don't know, control it. I thought I was until two nights ago."

"You did, and you do," she replied staunchly, looking at me with sparks snapping in her gray eyes, "If more sessions with Dr. Aurelius will make you feel better, then go ahead, but I don't think for a second that you would ever hurt me. Now, let me see your hand. I bet you got dirt in your cut, which isn't completely healed, you silly man."

She reached for my injured hand, and tore at the grubby bandage that was already falling off my palm. She tsked in irritation, "Peeta, the bandage is filthy, and there's dirt in the cut. We should clean this right away. It could get infected."

She tugged me by my wrist to the hose I'd attached to the faucet at the back of the house in preparation for watering the new trees. Grasping the nozzle in her hand, she squeezed the trigger sending a sudden forceful blast onto my palm and splattering us both with cold water.

I gave a startled gasp as the glacial droplets hit the heated skin of my naked chest and stomach, feeling the prickle of goose bumps as I recoiled, "Hey, that's cold!"

Not liking the evil grin on Katniss' face, I took another step back, as her eyes roved over my bare sweat and dirt covered torso, "Really? Well, you are kind of dirty, so I think you'll have to be hosed down before you go in the house."

"Don't you dare," I stood my ground.

She actually laughed, "Oh, I dare." She pointed the hose nozzle at me and pulled the trigger, soaking me in the seconds it took me to recover and lurch at her.

The nozzle fell from her hand and hit the ground pointing up still spraying upward at us, as I grabbed her and held her tightly to my now wet, shivering body. She squealed, "Peeta! You're so cold and _wet_."

"No kidding, see how you like it. Spray me with the hose, and this is what happens," I rubbed my cool, wet body against hers playfully.

We were both laughing so hard we couldn't even manage to move away from the still spraying nozzle quickly enough, ending with us both soaked to the skin. Katniss had her back against the wall of the house, as she pushed a few loose tendrils of wet hair that escaped her braid from her face and looked up at me. We were both breathing hard, our chests touching with each exhalation. Abruptly, playfulness turned to lust, as we stood transfixed, blinking at each other in the fading light.

I reached out with my now mostly clean, dripping wet hands to angle her jaw and capture her mouth in a melting kiss. I felt more than heard my own name come out in a pant against my lips, as I pressed her into the brick wall to deepen the kiss. Against my bare chest I could feel Katniss' warm skin through her damp shirt, her hard, taut nipples brushing against me through the clinging layers of her clothing. I groaned and reflexively ground against her as her hands found their way to my bare hips, just above the low waist of my trousers.

I trailed kisses across her dewy jaw and downward to nuzzle at the side of her neck. She smelled of the forest and the heady musk that was Katniss. My fingers clenched at the back of her head, "Katniss, I need you. Let's go inside."

I drew back a little, intending to go into the house, but she pulled me against her once more, saying, "No. Now."

Confused I took in her blazing eyes and flushed cheeks, "What? Here? Haymitch or anyone could see us."

"It's almost dark, and I think it's going to rain. Besides, there're empty woods behind us, and I went by Haymitch's on my way home. He's already passed out on his couch, so there's no one around to see."

I expelled a breath, fighting for control, I moved to pick her up and carry her, but she was agile and so flexible. With a little leap she wound her legs around my torso, ankles locked at my back, pushing my pants even lower on my hips as she pressed herself against my lower abdomen.

"Love me, Peeta," she intoned breathily at my ear, "I want to see my new trees when I take you inside me."

To further her argument, she undulated her hips against me, and I swear, even through our clothing, I could feel her warm, moist core pressing into my straining fly. Then I felt the first cool drop of rain hit my shoulder, "Katniss, it _is_ starting to rain. How in the hell do you do that anyway? We should go in. We'll be soaked."

"We're already wet. Help me," she ordered petulantly as she hopped down to quickly remove her boots and shuck her wet trousers down her thighs. I knelt to pull them off her ankles and on my return trip up her body, my fingers hooked at the edge of her panties, pulling them down as I trailed wet kisses up the cool skin of her bare thighs. The panties gone, my tongue flicked out to lick her sweet center nestled in the closely cropped curls between her legs. She let out a soft moan at this, encouraging me to suckle lightly at her sensitive nub, as she buried her fingers in my damp hair and pressed me to her core. I devoured her with my mouth, as she thrust against me. I didn't stop until she was trembling and leaning heavily against the wall behind her.

She tugged at my sodden locks to pull me up for another deep kiss, as her fingers fluttered down my bared chest and still lower to linger briefly over the slim trail of hair on my lower abdomen above the button of my pants. With a sudden flick, the button was undone and the rasp of my zipper echoed loudly through the quiet patter of the rain falling around us. Her eager hands pushed the heavy wet fabric of my pants down my hips and thighs until it pooled around my calves. Oh...my... God. We were actually going to do this.

My hands came up to palm her breasts which were as good as naked through her now rain spattered shirt and thin bra. I lightly pinched her erect nipples between my fingers and thumbs. I hardly recognized my low groaning voice as I rumbled, "Katniss... I-I want you so much."

Lifting one of her legs and wrapping it around my hip, she grasped my shoulders and stood on her toes to press her naked folds against the erection straining under the thin cotton of my underwear, "And I want you too, Peeta."

So, here we were in our rainy backyard. Naked. Okay, _mostly_ naked. A part of me was appalled at our depravity, while another part was supremely turned on. I was about to make love to my wife, who years ago, could barely kiss me in front of... well, most of Panem, but still... How far we had come.

"Peeta?" her husky murmur jolted me out of my musings, her eyes smoky and dark in the failing daylight as they bore into mine, urging me to take what we both wanted so desperately.

"Katniss..." I replied on a gasp, my control snapping like a dry twig. Beyond caring who might see, I pressed her against the brick wall of our house. With jerky movements I sent my shorts to join my pants at my feet, freeing my pulsing dick, before grabbing her thigh at my hip and hoisting her higher, entering her in one violent thrust, "Ungh, so ready...for... me. Just for me."

Wrapping her legs around me tightly, she locked her fingers behind my head to pull me toward her and place open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and upward to my panting lips, before muttering against them, "A-always. Ohhh... You feel so... so..." she hissed out a breath, as I thrust into her warm depths again,"...good."

I trailed my shaking palms down her sides to clasp her buttocks in my hands, in an effort to spare her the abrasiveness of the wall at her back. Her shirt was protecting her somewhat, yet, even in my hazy rush of arousal, I feared for the sensitive skin of her backside. I pulled her into my thrusts which had the double effects of offering her some protection while deepening our joining.

Loosening her arms, she arched her back to meet my thrusts, circling her hips in a way that was almost my undoing. In desperation to increase her pleasure, I bent my head to suckle at her nipples through her rain-drenched shirt, warming her cooling skin with my mouth.

I was rewarded by her soft, keening cry of my name, as the rhythm of her hips stuttered at her approaching climax. I felt the answering tug in my groin. Standing with the rain dripping from us, I felt the sudden, blinding clarity that only impending orgasms bring. This woman had laid down her life for me more than once, and I had done and would do the same for her without hesitation. I would do everything I could to protect her. We were the star-crossed lovers of District 12, who had defied death more than once to find our way back to one another. The fact that this was _real_ overtook me just as the shuddering euphoria of my climax roared through me like a freight train.

I realized I must have expressed some part of my thoughts aloud when I heard Katniss answer me in a fervid whisper before coming apart in my arms, "Yes, Peeta. Real."

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_I do hope you enjoyed dirty, wet Peeta. I sure did. Reviews much appreciated! Please, let me know your thoughts._


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